The boat lifted and then surged heavily forward, the blades taking control as the hull freed itself from the strong undertow. Bolitho saw the schooner's tall masts rising to greet him, the tracery of rigging and shrouds almost lost against the sky.
Allday stood straddle-legged and wary, the tiller bar held lightly in his fingertips.
'Easy all!' He craned forward as if to impress them more. 'Bow-man, ready!'
Astern Bolitho heard the regular splash of oars as the other boat pulled hastily towards the schooner's bows.
Allday said quickly, 'It's now or never, Captain!' His teeth were bared with concentration, so that some men in the forward part of the boat thought he was smiling.
Bolitho stood up beside him and reached out to fend off the overhanging quarter, as like a moving object it loomed right above the boat.
'Now!'
There was a yell and a quick clatter as the bow-man hurled his grapnelup and over the bulwark. With a jerking, grinding crash the boat came alongside, some men falling in confusion, while others climbed eagerly over their sprawled bodies and entangled oars as if using a living bridge to reach the vessel's main deck.
Figures were already dashing from the forecastle, but as a man ran wildly from aft there was a muffled bang, the wellaimed musket ball hurling him round like an insane dancer, his agony clearly silhouetted against the poop lanterns.
Bolitho felt rather than saw a figure coming at him from the scuppers. Something hissed above his head even as he ducked round and struck for his attacker with his sword. The swaying figure backed and came on again, and Bolitho realised he was holding a huge axe, swinging it from side to side as he advanced.
Carwithen exclaimed, 'A plague on that bastard!' and fired his pistol full in the man's face. To Bolitho he snarled, 'That'll teach him!'
Another of the crew had climbed frantically into the foremast shrouds and was being pursued by a yelling seaman. Once again a musket stabbed the darkness from the other boat, and with a faint cry the man fell headlong to the deck where he was promptly despatched by a waiting cutlass.
Allday yelled, 'Most of 'em have gone below,. Captain!' He ran to a hatchway and fired his pistol into it. 'The fight's gone out of 'em now, I'm thinking!'
Bolitho peered aft at the poop lanterns. 'Call the other boat to give assistance!'
It was suddenly very quiet on the schooner's deck, and as Bolitho walked slowly towards the small cabin hatch just forward of the wheel he was conscious of his own footsteps and the feeling the fight was not yet over.
He moved warily around the outstretched corpse which had been the first to fall to a marine sharpshooter, its face shining in the lantern light, the lower jaw broken away as if by an axe stroke.
Allday said, 'Stand aside, Captain!'
But a seaman was already clambering over the hatch coaming, his face suddenly screwing up in terrible agony as a pistol exploded beneath him.
A shadow darted through the pluming smoke, and Bolitho saw it was the scarfaced seaman called Lincoln, his eyes like stones as he allowed his lean body to drop straight through the hatch, using his dead companion to cushion the fall. His feet thudded into the corpse, and as he turned he whipped a knife from between his teeth, hitting out twice in the darkness, the second blow bringing a scream of pain.
More men were swarming down after him, and Bolitho -yelled, 'Bring a lantern! Drag those men clear!'
Feet pounded over the planking, and he heard Armitage calling anxiously from the boat alongside.
Carwithen was already down on the cabin deck, knocking a seaman aside even as he made to finish the wounded pirate with his dirk.
Bolitho paused on the ladder, searching for Davy, his mind still able to grapple with the realisation that Allday had saved his life. But for his warning, he and not that poor seaman would be lying there dead.
'Mr. Davy! Hoist both boats inboard once you have secured our prisoners!'
'Aye, aye, sir!' He sounded jubilant.
'And mount a guard on them. I want no fanatic opening the bilges to the sea before we can even make sail!'
He followed Allday down the ladder, the sea-noises suddenly muffled and lost.
A seaman kicked open the cabin door and darted inside with a levelled pistol.
'Nothin', zur!' He swung round as a shadow moved beyond an upended chair. 'Belay that, zur! There's another rascal 'ere! I'll get 'im for 'ee!'
Then he fell back in horror. 'By Jesus, zur! 'E's one of us!'
Bolitho stepped into the cabin, ducking low between the deckhead beams. He could appreciate the seaman's shocked surprise. It was a small, cringing wreck of a man. He was on his knees, fingers interlocked as in prayer while he swayed back and forth in time to the ship's motion.
Bolitho sheathed his sword, stepping between the quivering creature and his fierce-eyed-seaman.
'Who are you?'
He made to move closer and the man threw himself bodily at his feet.
'Have mercy, Captain! I done nothin', sir! I'm just an honest sailorman, sir!'
He gripped Bolitho's shoes, and when he reached down to pull him to his feet Bolitho saw with horror that every nail had been torn from his fingers.
Allday said harshly, 'On your feet! You are speaking to a King's officer!V
'Easy.' Bolitho held up his hand. 'Look at him. He has suffered enough.'
A seaman dropped his cutlass and lifted the man into a chair. 'Oi'll get 'im a drink, Cap'n.'
He dragged open a cupboard and gaped as the little man screamed wildly, 'Don't touch! 'E'll flay you alive if you dare lay yet 'ooks on it!'
Bolitho asked, 'Who will?'
Then he seemed to realise what was happening. That it was not part of another in a whole procession of living nightmares. He stated at Bolitho's grave features, tears running unheeded down his sunken cheeks.
'Mu jadi!'
Carwithen muttered, 'What, here?'
The creature peered around Bolitho, his terrified eyes search
ing the crowded passageway, the dead seaman below the hatch. 'There! 'Is son!'
Bolitho turned swiftly and stooped above the man brought down by Lincoln's knife. Of course, he should have seen it. Instead of congratulating himself on being spared a horrible death.
The man was still alive, although the seaman's blade had laid open his neck and shoulder in a great, gaping wound. Must have missed the artery by a whisker and no more.
He was naked to the waist, but his loose trousers, now blotchy with his own and the seaman's blood, were of the finest silk. His eyes were tightly shut, his chest moving in quick, uneven thrusts.
Carwithen said, 'Let me finish the bastard, sir!' He was almost pleading.
Bolitho ignored him. The man was not aged much more than twenty, and around his throat he wore a gold pendant in the form of a prancing beast. Like the one on Muljadi's flag. It was just possible.
He snapped, 'Bind his wound. I want him to live.'
He turned to the ragged figure in the cabin. 'My men will take care of you, but first I want…'
The figure edged nearer the door. 'Is it really over, sir?' He was shaking violently and close to collapse. 'It's not a cruel trick?' Allday said quietly, 'This is Captain Bolitho, matey. Of His Majesty's Ship Undine.'
'Now tell us who you are?'
The little man sank down to the deck again. Like a cowed dog. 'I was sailmaker, sir. In the Portuguese barque Alvares. Took on in Lisbon when I lost me own ship. We was carryin' a mixed cargo from Java when we was attacked by pirates.'
'When was this?' Bolitho spoke carefully, very aware of the other man's confusion.
'A year back, sir. I think.' He dosed his eyes with the effort.
'We was taken to Muljadi's anchorage, wot there was left of us. Muljadi's men killed most of 'em. Only kept me 'cause I was a sailmaker.'
'I tried to escape once. Didn't know I was bein' 'eld on an island, y'see. They caught me before I'd been free an hour. Put me to torture.' He was shaking more violently now. 'All of 'em sat there watchin'. Enjoyin' it. Laughin'.' He lurched to his feet and threw himself towards the door, snatching up a cutlass as he screamed, 'Pulled out all my nails with pincers, an' worse, the bloody bastards!'